


Parallels

by HawthornShadow



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-14
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 17:43:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1613735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawthornShadow/pseuds/HawthornShadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"This wasn't him and this certainly was not his world."</p><p>Where the Vongola somehow jump through various (random) parallel universes, and try to figure out what exactly is going on.<br/>...It would also probably help if more than one of them remembered each time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. World One: Where Everything Was Normal

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, before you start, this will be terrible. This is not aiming to be good, this is aiming to get me back writing SOMETHING that I actually feel obligated to update. So, without further ado, enjoy (if you want to) the (hopefully) series that is Parallels.

This wasn’t him.

Well, this was him. He was still Tsunayoshi Sawada, son of Nana Sawada and the ever-missing Iemitsu Sawada. He still failed his classes, still had no friends. Heck, he was even still running late for school! But something was missing.

Every day for the past six days his mother had woken him up. He had rushed downstairs, then fallen down the rest of the stairs, had breakfast, tripped back up the stairs to the bathroom and prepared for school. After checking his retied shoes, (everything had to be done twice to prevent even more accidents), he rushed out the door. Having completed this routine for the seventh time now, one thought had been cemented firmly in his mind.

This was not his world.

This could not be his world. He clearly remembered crazy adventures with mafia babies, assassins and his own group of friends, friends who didn’t seem to know him here.

On his first day he’d approached Yamamoto before class, asking him if he knew what was going on. Reborn had been missing when Tsuna woke up, then he and Gokudera weren’t outside to walk with Tsuna to school like normal. Hibari didn’t even appear to bite him to death when he was late! But Yamamoto just looked at him oddly through the grin stretched across his face. Tsuna swiftly apologised for bothering him and backed away to his seat, his thoughts in turmoil. It was like he and Yamamoto had never even met!

Dragging his thoughts back to the present, Tsuna collapsed into his chair. He made it to school with two minutes to spare, a record for him. Taking his books out, he prepared himself for another tedious day of school. After becoming used to regular explosions and chaos, everything else was boring by comparison.

Tsuna refocused his attention as the teacher began to speak.

“I’m sure there have been many rumours floating around this morning. However, I expect you to ignore these and to treat our new student kindly. Please come in now!” He directed his last words toward the door which quickly opened.

…It couldn’t be.

“I’ll introduce the transfer student.”

It was impossible.

“He was studying abroad in Italy until now. His name is…”

It was him.

“Hayato Gokudera.”

Tsuna was in shock. Not once since entering this world had he seen any sign of the mafia, and yet here was Gokudera. But why was he here? Tsuna was no longer the Tenth as far as he could tell, so Gokudera should have no reason to come to Japan, right? Maybe there were other reasons.

As Tsuna was having his internal debate, Gokudera had travelled straight to his own seat avoiding any confrontation with his peers, though scowling all the while. The rest of the morning passed in a similarly quiet but unfamiliar way.

Lunch came and went and soon it was time for the afternoon’s volleyball tournament. Tsuna was thankful not to be playing again. He didn’t think his manhood could take another EXTREME blow and he certainly wasn’t willing to test it. Instead he settled at the back of the stands. It was much harder to see the game, but Tsuna didn’t particularly care for that, and the seats there were the only few left unoccupied. No-one wanted to sit next to ‘No-Good-Tsuna’, so they were likely to stay that way too, which is why Tsuna jumped in surprise when a presence landed next to him.

“Gokudera?”

The person in question huffed in annoyance at the idiot he was forced to sit next to. Rather than explode at him, Gokudera pulled out a notebook and started doodling, completely ignoring Tsuna staring over his shoulder. It wasn’t like he’d be able to comprehend the complex code developed by Gokudera’s pre-teen self.

“Gokudera, are you writing a diary?”

To Tsuna the script flowing from Gokudera’s pen was unrecognisable as anything but G-letters, Gokudera’s personalised childhood code. The same code which Gokudera had taught him in later years, which meant not only could Tsuna read clearly what Gokudera was writing, he was also left free to wonder why Gokudera felt the need to record everything that had happened to him since his introduction that morning.

“Mind your own business.”  Gokudera snapped, before mumbling something about ‘stupid, nagging sisters’ under his breath.

Did Gokudera mean Bianchi? Maybe she wanted him to keep him updated on his time in Japan. She did care about him, despite the occasional attacks.

“Watch out!”

Lost in his thoughts, Tsuna didn’t notice the volleyball heading for his head until it the last moment. Bracing himself for impact, he closed his eyes, only to be shoved to the ground. A few seconds passed before Tsuna opened his eyes again. From his position on the ground he stared at Gokudera lying next to him and took note of his bruised eye. Gokudera smiled at him, but his expression was swiftly replaced with one of concern when Tsuna still didn’t move.

“Jyuudaime?…”

Tsuna’s frantic, worried thoughts ground to a halt as he realised what Gokudera said. He wasn’t Decimo in this world, why would Gokudera call him that? The only possible reason would be if…

“You… you remember?”

The world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, not that great. Next up, it's Gokudera's turn.


	2. World Two: Where Everything Was Melodic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gokudera remembers.
> 
> No-one else does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will likely not go where you presently think it will go. Warning you now.

Gokudera shot up.

Why? Why hadn’t he remembered Jyuudaime? And where was he?

Gokudera’s thoughts stalled as he took in his surroundings. He was sat in a large bed, next to which stood a bedside table, and next to that stood a wardrobe. In front of him was a massive television, and to the right were two doors. He had expected to wake up in the nurse’s office after being hit in the head, but this definitely wasn’t it.

Carefully, so as not to alert anyone who may have kidnapped him to get to Jyuudaime, Gokudera made his way to the window. Pulling back the curtain he was greeted by a busy city with crowded streets and tall structures surrounding the building he awoke in, which he presumed to be a hotel.

Gokudera was baffled. There was nowhere like this near Namimori. His kidnappers must have incredibly fast transport, or extra-terrestrial help! What if he was abducted by aliens?! He quickly ruled this out; aliens would transport him to their mother-ship, not a human city. Gokudera quickly checked that, yes, the people walking around down there were human.

“Hayato! Time to get up!”

The feminine voice from the door made him freeze for a moment before he rushed over and yanked it open.

“Who are you and where’s Jyuudaime?!”

The smartly dressed woman raised a blonde brow.

“I’m your manager sweetie, and if you don’t hurry up we’re going to be late. Now get dressed, and make sure you wear the suit I picked out for you. We need you to look good at the recital. I’ll see you in the lobby in twenty minutes.”

Muttering to herself, the lady walked back down the corridor.

“God, I knew you were grumpy in the morning but this is bad even for you.”

Gokudera knocked himself out of his trance and walked back into the hotel room. True to the lady’s word a clothes-bag was hanging from the wardrobe in the corner. He decided that if he was going to find Jyuudaime he should probably follow these people’s demands for now. He couldn’t just blast his way out, he had to get information first.

That was a point; he hadn’t noticed any of his dynamite since he woke up. The situation kept becoming more dangerous. Not that he was defenceless, but he would feel much better with a weapon on him. Spotting a few pens on the bedside table, he grabbed both of them and the suit and entered the bathroom to change. And perform the rest of his morning routine.

* * *

 

Twenty minutes later found Gokudera in the elevator making his way to the lobby. The pens were concealed perfectly, one up his sleeve and the other hidden in plain sight in his breast-pocket. As the doors opened, he was grabbed by the arm as his now frantic ‘manager’ dragged him toward the exit.

“We’re late! I told you twenty minutes; that was twenty-three!”

She shoved him into a waiting car, swiftly following as the driver started to pull away.

“Right, here’s your schedule.”

She thrust a piece of paper into his hands. It clearly stated that he was meant to practice _something_ for the majority of the day and then he was due for a … piano recital? That couldn’t be right.

“What does it mean, ‘piano recital’? I haven’t played piano in years! I left all that behind me when my mother died!”

Gokudera’s explosion shocked the woman into silence briefly before she returned in kind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, young man, but you better get it together before tonight! Your mother’s death was the event which spurred you to play piano more, not less! Now, we are going in there, and you are going to practice. If you really believe you haven’t played for years, you are going to need it.”

That said, she pulled him out of the now still car and into the building they had pulled up alongside. Ignoring anyone they came across, she directed him to the back of the building and upstairs where she shoved a folder into his arms and pushed him through a door.

Gokudera stumbled into the room, muttering curses as he went. He quickly noticed the white grand piano in the centre and seated himself before it. Opening the lid, he placed the folder open above the keys and pondered what to start with. His fingers naturally moved to practice some scales as he thought. Confused, Gokudera looked down and his hands halted. He decided to try something harder, and found that the movements for that too came easily to him.

Choosing to focus on something else for a while, Gokudera opened the folder in front of him. It seemed to contain the sheet music for the pieces he would be performing at the recital. Leaning forward, he pressed the first key.

* * *

 

For the next three hours Gokudera worked his way through the folder, practicing each song until he could perform it perfectly. Finally, he turned to the last piece in the book and paused.

This piece. This one shouldn’t be there. He had been taught how to play this one by his mother, shortly before she passed away. He had never performed it, never had the chance.

“Hayato! It’s time to get ready!”

The lady was there again. This time he was dragged downstairs and to a dressing room. A plastic container was shoved into his hands and he was pushed onto a sofa.

“Eat quickly. We need to make sure everything is ready.”

She had a lanyard around her neck, proudly displaying her name, visitor status and her profession as his manager. Thankful to have a name to match to her face, Gokudera decided to ask the question which had been bothering since they left upstairs.

“Irene? That last piece…”

“Yes, yes. That’s to be your grand finale, never before heard! Now, you stay in here for the next few hours as our crew finishes setting up.” She put a hand to her ear. “I’m needed elsewhere. Behave! I’ll see you later.”

Giving him no time to reply she hurried out of the door, leaving Gokudera to sit in silence as he tried to figure out what was going on. So far he had seen no sign of the Tenth or any of the Vongola. There was also nothing backing up his profession as a Mafioso and though Irene had an Italian name she seemed to have no idea of his place in the darker side of the country, which she should given how well she seemed to know him. It was almost as if he was in a different world!

And that piece. The only way that could be written down was if he had done so. He had composed that with his mother. He was going to play it fully for his mother, father and sister in a private concert. His mother had told him to play it for the ones he loved, for his family, but then he couldn’t.

* * *

 

Before long he was set upon by the costume and make-up staff, bursting through the door to shower him with who knows what. At first he sat patiently as his face was lightly adorned, but when they started to slather it on he couldn’t take it.

“It’s just a piano recital! How much make-up do I need?!”

He exploded out of the room and crashed into Irene, who should have been rather displeased to have her front coated with gunk, but currently was in a rush to get Gokudera to the stage ready to begin. Whilst once again being dragged by Irene, for whom agitation seemed to be a perpetual state, he was handed a wipe and promptly cleaned off his face.

They reached backstage, and as Gokudera tried to think of some way to avoid playing in public again, Irene fussed around him, straightening his suit before stepping back.

“Five minutes until the concert starts. Good luck!”

He was directed to sit behind the piano in the centre of the stage, this one a deep black in contrast to the previous’ bright white. He arranged the sheet music and then the curtains slowly started to rise. Eyes closed, he started the first piece.

Only stopping for short intervals as the audience applauded, Gokudera worked his way through each tune. He was both anticipating and dreading performing the final piece, but eventually it was time. Taking a fortifying breath, he glanced at the audience, but then a head of brown, fluffy hair caught his eye.

There, in the back row! There was the Tenth, smiling up at him! And next to him was the Baseball-Idiot, grinning madly. They were here, his family was here!

His family…

Turning back to the piano, Gokudera smiled and whispered to himself.

“This one’s for you, Jyuudaime.”

And Gokudera started to play. As the melody washed through the room he realised how much he’d missed this. He wasn’t just playing for a crowd who politely sat and clapped between each piece. He was playing for his friends, for his family, letting his emotions provide the backing for the notes his fingers released, and he loved it!

Opening eyes he hadn’t realised he’d closed, he noticed that the music had ended. He could see Irene frantically gesturing him to get up and he quickly rose and faced the audience once more, bowing deeply. He tried to search out Jyuudaime again, but the curtains fell before he could spot him.

Gokudera toppled backward as he was suddenly enveloped in a hug by Irene.

“That was brilliant! Your last piece was absolutely amazing!”

Gokudera carefully removed the grinning woman and made his way to the stage door. He had to find Jyuudaime before he left. Reassuring Irene that he was just getting some fresh air and would come back inside soon, he shut the door behind him. Quickly, he jogged down the alleyway toward the entrance of the building.

“Mr Gokudera, is that you?”

The person laughed and Gokudera mentally growled.

“I guess it is you!”

Gokudera turned around and glared at the person slowing him down before his eyes widened in disbelief. He quickly strode toward the boy and seized his collar.

“Idiot! Where’s Jyuudaime?! You should be protecting him!”

Yamamoto blinked at Gokudera, then laughed once more.

“I don’t know who ‘Jyuudaime’ is. I came to ask you for an autograph for my friend Tsuna. Is this some kind of game? Could I play?”

Gokudera did growl this time before dropping him to the ground.

“Idiot, I don’t have time for this. Why do you always see everything as a game?!”

“Maa, maa, calm down Gokudera. You should drink more milk.”

“I don’t need you telling me what to do, Baseball-Idiot!”

Yamamoto paused.

“Hey, how’d you know I play baseball?”

“I don’t have time for this!” Gokudera stalked along the alley again, Yamamoto running after him.

“So what, is this a game? Do we have to find this ‘Jyuudaime’, like we did in the Mafia game?”

Yamamoto was faced with Gokudera’s chest as the pianist rounded on him.

“What did you just say?”

“We have to find Tsuna again, right? He should still be waiting in front of the concert… hall.” He laughed. “That’s funny; I didn’t think Tsuna liked classical music before.”

This… the idiot remembered, but Gokudera was confused. The Baseball-Idiot hadn’t recognised him before, he hadn’t remembered anything. Just like Gokudera hadn’t remembered when Jyuudaime had, but then he woke up here! Gokudera grabbed the Idiot’s head and stared into his eyes.

“Remind us! You have to remind us!”

“Maa, maa, Gokudera, what are you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another chapter. That's never happened before. And two times the length of the first chapter, whoops! But hey, more is good, right?
> 
> See you next time!  
> (Hopefully. Please come back.)


	3. World Three: Where Everything Was A Wish Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takeshi is a little confused.
> 
> Where exactly is he?

"… talking about?"

It was dark, it was cramped, and Takeshi couldn't hear a thing.

"Ahahaha… Gokudera?"

Takeshi stared into the black surrounding him.

"Is this part of the game?"

Nothing answered.

This was beginning to creep him out. He tried to feel around him to get a sense of where he was. Pushing one arm out, he hesitantly traced his hand around the curved wall. The room seemed to be circular, with just enough space to sit down in. However, he couldn't find a door. Reaching up this time, his hands met with nothing, even when he jumped. Suddenly inspired, Takeshi attempted to climb out of the hole he was stuck in using the walls, but he slid back down each time he tried. It seemed like there was no way out.

"Not good."

Starting to panic, Takeshi tried to reassure himself that even if he couldn't do anything, his friends would soon arrive to rescue him. They wouldn't abandon him, he just needed to wait.

Still, it would be nice to have someone to fill the silence with. He was used to laughing, shouting and explosions, so the quiet was kind of getting to him. He needed to see Gokudera, or Tsuna, or…

"Anyone?"

* * *

He didn't know how long he'd been here. It couldn't have been too long; he hadn't needed to eat or sleep or relieve himself. Yet it felt like an eternity. He'd started counting a while ago but got lost somewhere in the thousands and gave up.

Maybe they weren't coming.

Suddenly a distant grinding noise interrupted Takeshi's thoughts, then another, then another, each one seeming to come from slightly closer than the last. Eventually, the noises were right outside the room he was in. Huh, he could hear footsteps now too, even if they sounded like the steps of a giant.

"You know what to do."

Even the voice was massive! Maybe he  _had_  been kidnapped by giants; that could be fun! Imagine how far a giant could hit a baseball…

"G-Genie…I-I co-command you!"

Wow, that guy sounded nervous! And what was that about a genie?

Smoke filled the room, making Takeshi cough. He became dizzy as he twisted and turned, the floor disappearing as he travelled…upward? Ha, he was getting out!

As another floor settled beneath his bare feet, the smoke started to clear (and was it blue?), leaving Takeshi with the sight of a drab, grey room. It was more of a concrete bunker, really. Speaking of which, his toes were really cold! Ah, no shoes, right. Also, these baggy trousers and waistcoat, though cool looking, did nothing to help with the chill he was feeling.

"Ahem."

Oh, right. There were people here. They stood by the doorway, an old man (was that the Ninth?) and… Tsuna!

"Tsunayoshi." The old man looked at Tsuna intently, some kind of message getting across.

"Yeah! Right! Um…" Takeshi attempted to ask a question, but was surprised to find that he couldn't even open his mouth to breathe through it, let alone speak.

"Um… Genie, I command you to…err…"

The old man sighed, shaking his head.

"Genie, I command you to prevent the attack on Vongola planned by the Forza."

Takeshi felt his head moving without his consent when he nodded. The smell of freshly fallen rain filled the room as the air seemed to shimmer.

"Genie, you are dismissed."

Smoke filled his vision again as he was once more lifted from the floor. With the lack of light in his old room, he strained his other senses, listening to the voices as they retreated, doors grinding shut behind them.

"I'm sorry, Tsunayoshi. I should have known you weren't ready." The sounds faded.

Silence and darkness greeted him as he contemplated. It didn't look like Tsuna knew Takeshi, or at least, he wasn't comfortable speaking to him. Well, they'd just have to become friends again! If he came back, which it didn't sound like he'd be doing for a while, given the old man's words as he left.

This was going to be a long wait.

* * *

This time the old man commanded him to stop the Pugno Famiglia's attack, the time before it was the Fragore, before that another Family. Each time he was summoned, given the order, and sent straight back to his cell-like room. He was sure it was doing wonders for his mental state! (He tried not to think about that too much). There was still no sign of Tsuna, not yet anyway, but Takeshi trusted that his friend would come, even if he didn't know Takeshi was waiting.

He'd tried to use his genie powers to liven up his room a bit (because, yes, he realised, he was the genie they were addressing). There was now a nice blue floating ball of light near the top of the bottle. And that was another thing, he was in a bottle! Although he supposed it made sense if he was a genie, and it was a very nice bottle. A very nice, blue bottle (despite the fact he still couldn't see the top, and genie powers apparently didn't help with escapes). Though honestly, he was getting a bit tired of the colour blue. Blue and grey. What he needed was a splash of a nice bright colour, like yellow, or orange!

The door ground open again, Takeshi quickly snuffing out is light. The old man was just here, he shouldn't be back yet unless something had gone wrong.

"G-Genie…I command you…"

Well, that stuttering sounded awfully familiar. Was that Tsuna again? It was about time. Blinking away the smoke (blue again, always blue), Tsuna was revealed shuffling in the doorway.

"Um…I don't really know what to say…"

This was where Takeshi wanted to comfort is friend, maybe make a bad joke, but unlike when he was alone in his bottle, it seemed he still couldn't speak in front of his 'masters'. So, he just stood there, smiling as much as his lack of movement would allow.

Looking up at him, Tsuna stiffened.

"…Why? Why do you do it?"

Takeshi's happy face seemed to be all the encouragement Tsuna needed to become angry.

"Why?! Why do you kill all those people?! Isn't there another way? Can't you just, I don't know, take away their weapons, or protect the people they attack? Why…Why do you have to kill them?"

By this point, Takeshi's smile had dropped. Is this what he had been doing, every time he fulfilled a wish? But… he didn't want to hurt people…

Tsuna slumped with his back against the wall, crying. It looked like he'd been holding that in for a while. He laughed bitterly.

"Why don't you tell me what everybody else has, hmm? That I'm a fool for thinking the Mafia could be anything but bloody."

Takeshi could see how much Tsuna needed comfort, but he still couldn't move. He hadn't received any commands, at least none that would help. Except…That first visit, hadn't Tsuna commanded him to 'err'? True, that's just because he was thinking, but technically, didn't that allow Takeshi to make a mistake. Only one though, so which one?

Speaking would have to wait, Takeshi decided. Right now Tsuna needed a hug, not to be told why he did what he did. Besides, he still hadn't fully taken it in himself. Mind made up, he felt his bonds loosen slightly, enough for him to approach the sobbing figure. Crouching, he gently wrapped his arms around Tsuna, feeling Tsuna tense before relaxing into the embrace.

They stayed like that for a moment before Tsuna pulled away to look Takeshi in the eye. He seemed to find what he was looking for. Maybe it was Takeshi's regret and grief for what he had unknowingly done, or his honest will to help Tsuna prevent more destruction. Whatever it was, it caused Tsuna to stand up straight and dust himself off.

"I'm going to fix this."

Tsuna nodded determinedly, moving to leave the room. Just as he was leaving, Takeshi thought he heard him whisper,

"Thank you."

* * *

In the privacy of his cell, Takeshi grimaced. He had killed (accidentally), what, hundreds of people? It had to be at least that, he'd lost count of the families he'd been told to stop. It was an accident! He hadn't meant to! Besides, why did he kill them? As Tsuna pointed out, there were other ways he could have stopped them, even if he had to follow orders. (A small part of his brain input that they wouldn't have stopped, not really, unless they no longer had a choice).

Tsuna would make it right, though. He was good at that. Tsuna would fix everything, make everybody happy again, without the bloodshed. And Takeshi would help him, because that's what he was there to do.

He couldn't do it alone. Tsuna would need the others too. It hadn't seemed like Tsuna had anyone else to rely on here, and that wouldn't do. The only reason he could think of for any of them not helping Tsuna would be if they couldn't remember either. Takeshi nodded, he'd have to fix that.

* * *

Tsuna returned before the old man did, a grim look upon his face.

"I found out why you… stopped them the way you did." He leant against the wall. "Ricardo, the second boss of Vongola, was advised to make sure you dealt with any threat against him…completely. I guess that order's still effective."

Rubbing a hand over his face, he leant further back. "Genie, I allow you to speak."

Takeshi's bonds loosened again. He ran his tongue along his teeth, then his lips. Finally, he opened his mouth fully, just to check he could. He broke down into joyous laughing. He could make sound again! He could speak to Tsuna, tell him…everything! Tsuna, who was currently staring at him as if he were a madman. Ah.

Composing himself (okay, the odd giggle may have slipped through), Takeshi expressed his gratitude in the best way he could think of.

"Thanks, Tsuna!"

Okay, probably not the best way. Oh well.

"Um… Are you okay?" Tsuna seemed a little shocked by his outburst. Takeshi threw him a thumbs-up.

"Yep!"

"Okay then… Um, Mr Genie, I release you from any orders made by Ricardo, so, you know, you don't have to kill people anymore…"

Takeshi felt more of his bonds release. This was great! He could move, he could help Tsuna! He could... But the others would help even more. He had to get them to help. Maybe Tsuna could help, he could use his powers when his 'Master' told him too, right? He just had to remind them, and he was sure they would come running back to He grinned.

"Hey, Tsuna?"

"Um…Yeah?" Why did Tsuna look nervous?

"Can you do something for me? Can you let me use my powers for something?"

Okay, now Tsuna looked even more nervous.

"You won't hurt anyone, will you?"

Takeshi grinned more widely still.

"Nope!"

"Then…I suppose…"

This felt weird. He had full access to do whatever he wanted, even if it was only one thing. He'd just have to make it count.

"I want them to remember." He nodded.

* * *

Far away in a prison cell, a young man opened his heterochromatic eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Procrastination! Procrastination! It's just the way we feel!
> 
> Hola, amigos!
> 
> I thought I'd update on Valentine's Day, because, you know, I love you all! (Or something like that).


	4. World Four: Where Everything Went Right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This could be Mukuro's chance.

He woke up.

This was odd. Hadn't he woken up already? Still, he woke up, locked in a cell once again, except this time he was back in prison, or so it would seem. The exact same room he had been imprisoned by before, in fact. He hoped he'd have a while to readjust before he made another jump, it hadn't been pleasant for anybody involved last time. He'd spent what, one year, two, more, repeating his period with the Estraneo. As stated, it wasn't pleasant. He hadn't particularly enjoyed that little reminder of every reason the Mafia needed to be destroyed.

He shook his head.

His hands were a little larger now, he absent-mindedly noticed, a little less disproportionate to the rest of his body. He was older. He was almost free.

Mukuro laughed.

They'd proven the plausibility of time travel before, hadn't they? That changing a moment in the past would change the events of the future? Maybe this was his chance to change things, to make them right. He'd have to be careful. This could only work if everything went according to plan, and for that to occur he would need to have control over the situation.

Complete control.

* * *

 

He was stronger this time. His powers were based in the mind, though, so his advanced mentality was bound to work to his advantage. It still felt too easy.

He had followed the original timeline up to arriving in Namimori. There was no need to overly complicate things before his plan was even set in motion. They arrived mostly quietly and unnoticed. Then he struck.

Tsunayoshi (not Vongola yet, too naïve for that name) had been walking obliviously down the street, miraculously unaccompanied. He completely missed the small graze he received from a passing stranger. His Hyper-Intuition obviously hadn’t come in fully, yet. He’d come to regret that.

Tsunayoshi was equipped with a small spike, hidden in the palm of his hand. His overly-affectionate Rain and explosive Storm soon followed him into mental captivity.

Too easy.

Mukuro didn’t make it obvious. He’d been manipulating the guardians for years, it would be a long time before he was caught out mimicking their personalities.

The eager Sun and Lightning walked into his traps, meeting their fates with smiles on their faces. The Skylark would have been difficult were it not for his current weakness to cherry-blossoms and the abruptness of the attack.

He had done it. Through the addition of the Cloud guardian, Mukuro controlled the future most powerful players in the game, and through them would come to control Vongola and eventually the whole of the Mafia. Destruction could only follow.

First there was the Arcobaleno to take care of, though. His players would need to be stronger so that when the time came they would easily overpower the opposition, but for now they’d have to stay in character. He’d pretend the situation had finally encouraged them to train. Maybe he’d create a situation. Better late than never.

* * *

 

Exactly the same! Everything had occurred in exactly the same way, according to plan. Unfortunately this included his ‘capture’ by the Vindici, but what better way to focus his efforts on the minds of his newly ‘motivated’ players? Speaking of which, he believed now was the time he was forced unconscious to prevent him from memorising more of the prison layout than he had already seen. He’d wake soon enough, he’d encourage Tsunayoshi to heavily protest against his treatment, moving him to another cell from which he could more easily escape. Soon enough…

* * *

 

The drugs had forced his consciousness from both the outer world and his mindscape, though he could only be blocked from his own mindscape for so long.  As he strolled through the dreams of Namimori, he paused. There was a slight rasping noise, pulling at the edge of his consciousness. Intrigued, he moved toward it. His puppets could wait for a little while.

A white hospital bed came into view. It was just another sick child, not enough to attract his attention. Still, he was curious. It should take more than laboured breathing to pull him through dreams. And that hair seemed awfully familiar.

“Nagi?”

How…? Something had tampered with his memories. He’d forgotten her, forgotten Nagi. How had he forgotten Nagi?

The joyful feeling in his chest, the feeling that everything was going right, sank. He’d… He’d forgotten her. He’d been so caught up in his schemes, spent so long without her, been so cruelly reminded of the harshness of the world… that he’d forgotten her.

“Mu…kuro-…sa…ma?”

The voice echoed in his mind. That her body, her mental perception of herself was near-dead, that did not bode well. That meant she acknowledged her physical state, and her physical state was not good. It had taken longer for him to find her, longer than last time.

It was fine. Even if she no longer had the power herself, he could easily fix her body again…

It was no good. He’d spread himself too thin, maintaining connections with the Vongola on top of his already drugged and dulled mind had limited him to the point where he couldn’t help her.

He couldn’t help her.

What was the point in all this if he lost one of his few, so few, precious people? There was no point. He went to abandon his connections… but, would that help? If he released their minds, they’d just come after him. He wouldn’t be able to help anyone then.

Who was he kidding? He couldn’t help her anyway; her body was too far gone. He was too late, but he’d be damned if he let her die alone. Even if she couldn’t recover, he’d be there for her, physically there. She deserved that much.

He broke the  connections and threw all his power into waking up. He had a certain hospital to visit.

After he dried off. It seemed they’d placed him directly into the water prison this time. No taking any chances, huh? It didn’t matter. He’d be there for Nagi.

Soon.

* * *

 

She just lay there, staggered breath condensing against the plastic mask across her face. She looked so… broken. She didn’t deserve this.

Perching on the conveniently placed chair, he urged a small indigo flame toward her mind, watching as her eyelids fluttered open.

“…Who?”

He strained a small smile. It would seem she, like all the others, didn’t remember. He guessed the voice from earlier had been wishful thinking, thinking that someone else would understand the situation, or just that it had been _his_ Nagi. But it was still Nagi, and he wouldn’t leave her.

It seemed Nagi had been slowly turning her head towards him, as she was now staring into his uncovered eye. He’d hidden his other to prevent attracting unwanted attention as he made his way through the hospital. He was trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, but as her hand twitched in the direction of his face, he moved his fringe to reveal his physical proof of being an Estraneo experiment, for her. Her eyes widened before slowly slipping closed, even as she attempted to reach him. Noticing her struggle, he grasped her hand before she finally fell limp.

_‘Mukuro-sama?’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely satisfied, but meh. All the adverbs!  
> There is now an explanation about the origins of the alternate worlds on my profile for those of you who were confused by the genre change last chapter, or for those who are just curious.  
> I will try and get another chapter out soon (I've already started), but likely when exams are over for me, aka in three weeks-ish. I wouldn't bet on it, though. Still, sorry for the wait, and see you then! (Please come back.)


	5. World Five: Where Everything Was Mental

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrome wonders why everything has to be so loud.

"Mukuro-sama?"

Chrome fell to the plush carpet with a 'thump', a blanket tumbling after her. Disoriented, she glanced around dazedly.

Mukuro-sama… wasn't there. But, he had been there. She had seen him, held his hand, and… died? That couldn't be right. He had saved her, given her a home with Ken and Chikusa and Boss and the others, given her friends! But at the same time, she could remember darkness encroaching on her vision as she breathed what she was sure was to be her last breath. It just didn't make any sense!

She was knocked harshly from her thoughts by obnoxious (and somewhat slurred) singing. Stumbling to the window, she clutched her head whilst searching for the intruder. It would have been completely dark out if not for two bright lights racing past the building (a place she was sure she didn't recognise). The truck would have been the obvious source of the noise if it wasn't for one factor.

It was too far away.

Still, sure enough, as the lights faded into the distance, so too did the racket. Eventually she was left without the voice blasting through her skull and could focus on more important issues, such as where she actually was.

Though she had dismissed it originally, the layout of the room and its surroundings were becoming more and more familiar to her.

That arch right there, and the vast expanse of the room. Even the position of the couch in regards to the window, it all hinted to… Kokuyo Land, or at least one of the rooms they had made regular use of. Still, the derelict buildings of her memories did not possess stainless wallpaper and rich carpets, no matter how much she may have wished at times. Nor did they possess working electricity, she contemplated as she discovered a light switch.

The strong neon lighting flickered on, forcing her eyes to rapidly adjust to the new intensity. The bright rays only exaggerated the whiteness of the room, to levels which near blinded her. Excluding the occasional splash of cream, everything the light touched was as white as freshly fallen snow.

She hated it.

It reminded her of the blank hospital rooms, and she only had bad memories of those places  _where she was slipping, slowly slipping, eyes sliding shut…_ She had to leave.

She stumbled to the door and threw it open. She had to leave. Her feet raced through familiar, unfamiliar corridors, but the path was one she knew well. Rubber soles caught well on the tile flooring, and she was lucky that she had woken fully dressed, shoes and all (more white, she  _hated_  white).

Finally, breaking into the fresh air, she was free.

* * *

Namimori felt… different. Despite the early hour, voices filled the streets. Though, few made sense, and some were even pierced with screams of terror. The truly odd thing, however, was that she was the only one who flinched when a cry broke the early morning air. No-one else seemed to hear anything out of the ordinary. She had seen a couple of joggers and early-rising shopkeepers, but not one of them had reacted to the fear-inducing sounds, instead muttering and focusing on their own thoughts.

Searching for a distraction from the eerie background noises, she wandered into the nearest corner-shop. The newspaper rack caught her eye, and she turned to it. It would be a good way to check what had changed, at least with the civilians, and to check other details like the date. She wouldn't be the first one in their family to have time-travelled, they all had, and it might explain why everything at Kokuyo Land had looked so different.

Before she could get that far, a headline seized her attention. Or rather, a photo did.

Three men, teenagers really, were displayed confidently posing in front of a row of warehouses, though the one at the centre looked a little hesitant.

 _'NAMIMORI SAVED ONCE AGAIN!'_ , the headline exclaimed, and as Chrome investigated further she could see that it contained at least some truth. The article seemed like something out of a comic-book, detailing how the three pictured 'heroes' had stopped a criminal overlord from planting bombs throughout the town using their 'superpowers'.

"You not from 'round here?"

Chrome jumped as the shopkeeper spoke, blushing as she realised she had been staring at the paper for the best part of five minutes. The man cut off her attempt at a stuttered apology.

"Don't worry about it. Though, if you are new you might want to take a look at that magazine up there." He nodded to a shelf two rows above the newspaper, urging her to take a copy. She was gestured forward and nervously approached the counter.

"This here's a guide to every 'hero' and 'villain' currently known in Namimori, and a few from out of town. Basically, it's the survival guide to a town full of overpowered idiots." He flipped to a random page. "For example, see this one?"

She nodded and inspected the glossy print. It showed one of the teens from earlier, flames rising behind him as he stood with a hand at his belt, the other spread out before him. He seemed familiar to Chrome, but she couldn't quite place is silver hair or fierce scowl. The crimson mask wasn't any help, either.

"They call him the 'Smoking Bomb'. Some think he can control fire, though most think he only does explosions." Suddenly the book snapped shut. "But hey, that's all in here if you want to buy it."

Chrome felt lucky her dress had pockets, though she wondered what she had been doing to fall asleep with coins pressing against her side. Handing over the money, she ignored the shopkeeper's comment of 'cha-ching' and exited the shop with her new guidebook to Namimori's supernatural. Now she just needed somewhere to read it. Preferably near, she was  _not_ trekking back to Kokuyo Land.

* * *

She had worked out who the man from the random page was. Who all of them were, actually.

'Smoking Bomb' was Hayato Gokudera, and she didn't know why she hadn't realised that earlier. The other confident boy from the picture, the one with the sword, was so obviously Takeshi Yamamoto that it hurt. Which left the shy guy as Boss.

Once again it seemed like nothing could keep that trio apart, though how exactly they got together the book didn't detail. In fact, it was barely a guide at all! Each double-spread contained one photo (which must have been edited, as she doubted any 'hero' or 'villain' would have willingly submitted to a photoshoot), and a small profile of bare facts. All that was listed was their 'suspected powers', appearance, and a 'public-given name'. Half of the 'information' had been invented, and the rest anyone with eyes could see!

It would have been a waste of money if not for the occasional giggle it inspired. Honestly, she wasn't surprised to find Mukuro-sama in the 'villain' section of the book. The author, it would appear, had mistaken his illusionary powers for demonic possession. As if Mukuro-sama would allow himself to be possessed by the minor entities of Hell.

Speaking of demons, Kumo-san, the 'Demon Prefect', was in here too. Reportedly he was as territorial over Namimori as ever, though his 'peace-keeping' efforts were mostly focussed around the school district.

That would also be her next destination, as, as nice as this quiet bench was, she was still close enough to hear the shopkeeper's perverted comments on some of his more adult magazines that she had been politely ignoring. She thought the school seemed as good a place as any, and it should be abandoned due to some newspapers proclaiming it to be the weekend. Perhaps she could finally find some peace to sort out the voices in her head.

* * *

She had been wrong. The school wasn't abandoned. The skylark in front of her could attest to that.

'Unknown herbivore. Trespasser.'

"Herbivore, what are you doing on school property?"

She failed to stammer a satisfactory answer in the few seconds it took for him to become impatient. The glare he directed at her was terrifying as she rapidly tried to back away.

"For trespassing on school grounds, I'll bite you to death!"

And suddenly he was upon her, tonfa swinging and barely missing her face as she tripped. Frantic, she threw out her hands in a futile effort to stop the blows.

All became silent.

Her palm had glanced off his cheek, but Chrome didn't have a moment to take this in before he disappeared. He had fully disappeared, not even a trace of him left. Nervously, she took the opportunity for what it was and stood up.

Glancing around, she shivered. Everything felt so much more… empty… all of a sudden. The early-morning birdsong had vanished, as had the breeze passing through the tree branches. The world was still, and Chrome didn't think she liked it. Even her footfalls on the tarmac fell muted, and she almost preferred the bruises she would have received over this… loss.

Entering the school building, she decided, would be her current aim. It was what she had been intending to do anyway, and who knew? Maybe she'd find answers to this overwhelming silence. Surely, she couldn't find anything worse, at least.

The door swung smoothly open.

The corridor was lined with doors, more than she remembered. Each one was an exact replica of the others, plain and unimportant, and presumably each opened equally as silently as the first she curiously eased sideways.

* * *

And she was on the roof. A small, yellow fluffball perched on her finger, tweeting its response to whatever question she had asked it. Chrome felt mild surprise at how fluently the bird spoke Japanese, but it was smothered by a sensation of normalcy, and the emotion quickly left her.

The bird finished its report-

* * *

And she was in the corridor. Now she was back, she was disturbed by how easily she had accepted the scene as  _'right'_. It had almost been like thinking back on a memory, but she knew it wasn't one of hers. She didn't think it was one of hers. Never had she heard an animal speak so clearly.

Wanting to leave the doors behind, she hurried to the second floor. Maybe she'd find something helpful there. She hoped she would, and not anymore scenes behind doors that had left her so unsettled. Perhaps she cou-

She'd found a window. At the top of the stairs, the glass spread nearly wall to wall. She had a perfect view of the area surrounding the school, or she would have if the land didn't just…stop. She blinked, shook her head, and looked back.

No, it was still there, or rather, wasn't. She couldn't detect any kind of illusion, so there had to be another reason for why there was nothing beyond the school grounds. She shook her head again. She didn't want to deal with this right now.

There was no window, just pure, smooth wall. Careful not to take a step back in her shock lest she tumble down the stairs, she ran a hand over the unblemished surface. It was like the window had never existed, but she could remember it clearly. It was right there!

It was right there. Blinking, she tested it. She imagined the window there, and it was. She imagined it gone, and the wall returned. She imagined empty air, and she was in danger of falling to the tarmac below.

She tested her power over the space thoroughly, and found each change to be fully physical, with not even a hint of mist flames involved. Not that control over just this area would do her much good, given she still didn't know what was going on.

Sighing, she left her toy behind to look at the second corridor which… was full of doors. At least they were slightly more interesting this time, being blue instead of… Who was she kidding? No they weren't.

Nothing stood out so she moved onto the next floor, then the one after that. There was a brief moment when a wish for brighter lighting surprised her into stumbling through a doorway, but she just experienced a short non-memory about speaking with another animal, a hedgehog this time.

Finally, she thought she had reached the top floor. She'd passed it, in fact, and was now stood at the entrance to the roof. It was… odd. She wholeheartedly welcomed any colour in this place, but the door's decorations made it stand out more than a little against its surroundings. Not to mention, the pattern of indigo and violet blossoms partially smothered by thick silver chains had made the door drastically different from its original appearance.

The disconcerting change in design scheme had thrown her off, but not enough to prevent her from reaching for the handle. However, despite her best efforts, the door would not open. The chains were tougher than they looked, it would seem, and they stopped the door from shifting at all.

This… She tried hard to reach this point. Her feet were aching, she was fed up, and just as she had found a glimpse of hope she… couldn't… get… through! It wasn't fair.

Sinking into her frustration she directed as harsh a glare as she could at the silver cords holding the door shut. They were taunting her, glinting in the fluctuating light as her mind flew about the place. These were her only obstruction to freedom and she wanted them gone!

The links slowly uncurled themselves from the doorframe, retreating into the patterned wood. Slowly, cautiously, she turned the handle and eased the door open, bright light spilling over the edges. Pulling it further, she moved to open it fully.

Her vision went white, the soft 'thunk' of handle hitting the wall echoing in her ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… I may or may not have had this written a few months ago. Oops?
> 
> I now have a related mini-series called 'Parallels: Side Stories' which explores a little more into each universe. It was primarily created for this world, so if you're interested, see what the in-universe characters do normally over there.


End file.
